


the soft touch of a helping hand

by floralaziraphale (glittercat)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Kissing, Lowercase, M/M, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, crowley just loves his angel so damn much, if you're looking for plot this is Not the place for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 05:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittercat/pseuds/floralaziraphale
Summary: aziraphale is a little insecure about the state of his wings. crowley is more than happy to help him feel better.





	the soft touch of a helping hand

**Author's Note:**

> real soft boy hours have begun, y'all.

crowley is meticulously good at keeping his wings tidy.

when he's able to, he makes grooming them a regular part of his routine, every sunday afternoon. he finds it's easier if he's got someone else to help him, but it's certainly not impossible to do by himself. he’s got it down to a science- start by combing out the entire wing with his fingers, to get rid of any loose feathers, and then work through each section individually- primary feathers first, then secondaries, then scapulars, and down feathers at the very end. he does one wing at a time, usually starting in the left, just out of habit. the whole process takes about an hour- or longer if he's being _really_ thorough.

aziraphale, on the other hand, is far less careful about how his wings are groomed. if he's being honest with himself, he doesn't do it as frequently as he should, simply because other things always get in the way- he just never has time. he finds the process to be a bit tedious, and although he sometimes tells himself that he’ll make it a regular habit, he never actually _does. _

it's 9 pm on a wednesday. the sun’s just starting to set, and it casts a soft, lazy glow on the satin sheets of crowley's bed, illuminating the area with pleasant natural light. at this point in time, crowley knows that he doesn't _need _to sleep, and he knows he’s got things to do, but sleep looks _very _appealing right now. or- maybe not even sleep. maybe just rest. 

he's currently wrapped up in aziraphale’s arms, soft and cozy and safe. it’s kind of chilly for late spring, but he’s perfectly comfortable in his angel’s warm embrace. he’s got his wings wrapped around them both, which certainly helps as well- they’re surprisingly good insulators.

aziraphale strokes the soft feathers, and crowley sighs in response- he's not particularly sensitive, but it's been a little while since he and aziraphale have spent time together curled up in bed, and he's feeling a bit touch-starved. plus, aziraphale's hands feel so damn good brushing over his feathers and against the skin underneath. crowley could lie here for-fucking-_ever._

“not sure i’ve ever actually seen your wings, angel,” crowley muses. they both know that’s not true- crowley most definitely _has _seen his angel’s wings before, just… not recently. whenever they snuggle up together like this, it's always crowley's dark, shiny wings that keep them warm. he certainly doesn't mind- just wonders about it sometimes, that's all.

aziraphale says nothing for a moment, and crowley worries that he's made a mistake; worries he's said something he shouldn't have. 

“well, they’re not, er-“ aziraphale looks embarrassed now, as if he’s got something to hide- “they’re not like yours. i don’t groom them nearly as often as i should.” he casts his eyes downwards, avoiding crowley’s gaze.

"what do you mean by that?" crowley asks. he hates to see aziraphale so self-conscious all of the sudden, especially when he doesn't actually have anything to hide.

'i mean-" aziraphale pauses, collecting his thoughts- "well, uh, they're a bit of a mess, to be honest with you. i know angels usually aren't concerned about the appearance of their wings in the same way that your lot are, but i haven't taken the best care of them, and..." he trails off.

crowley's quiet for a moment, looking for a suitable response to that. he sometimes struggles to find the right words to comfort his angel at times like these, but he's always willing to try. finally, he whispers in aziraphale's ear- "i could, you know- i could groom them for you if you want."

"you'd do that?"

"of course i would." crowley's not sure why he's even asking. 6,000 years and aziraphale doesn't think crowley would be willing to do him a small favor?

"hmm."

aziraphale thinks it over.

"if you don't mind, that would actually be very nice."

"sit up then." crowley figures they might as well just get on with it- no use wasting time. aziraphale obeys with little hesitation.

crowley begins by carefully unbuttoning aziraphale's nightshirt, slipping it off his shoulders and tossing it to the floor. he’s done this about a million times before- sometimes in the mornings, when aziraphale gets dressed for the day ahead, and sometimes in the evenings, before they make love- but it feels different this time. his motions are slow and deliberate, like he’s mentally preparing himself for the task ahead. he sits back for a moment and just _observes,_ taking in the sight of the half-naked angel before him, studying every detail of his body- the fine layer of white-blond hair that covers his chest, the pale-pink shade of his nipples, the rolls of his soft stomach.

finally, he makes his first move.

he kisses aziraphale on the mouth first. aziraphale leans right into it, kissing crowley back, reaching up to tangle his fingers into crowley's hair. crowley then moves downward, scattering gentle kisses over his angel's neck and chest and stomach, making sure to hit all of his most sensitive spots. he digs his nails into the pale flesh of aziraphale's hips and runs his fingertips along the silvery stretch marks that are scattered across his skin. aziraphale sighs softly, like he just can't get enough of crowley's hands against his body.

crowley continues on like this for a moment, alternating between feather-light touches and soft little kisses and words of affirmation- _you're so beautiful, you look heavenly, i'm so damn lucky to have you. _he's not sure if all of this is necessary, but he wants aziraphale to be as relaxed as possible for what's ahead.

"are you ready?" he whispers into aziraphale's ear, one hand still resting near the waistband of his cotton pyjama pants. he knows it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but aziraphale tends to get a bit nervous about these things, and the last thing crowley wants is for him to be uncomfortable.

"i think so," aziraphale whispers back, and he sounds certain enough.

"alright then. turn over."

aziraphale does as he's asked, rolling onto his belly and squirming around a bit until he's comfortable.

it's at this point that crowley realizes that he actually has no idea how to go about doing this. it'd be easier if they weren't in bed- if he could just get aziraphale to sit backwards on a chair or something, the process would be a lot easier. however, aziraphale looks so content, lying there against the sheets- and crowley doesn't really feel like getting up either.

eventually he positions himself so that he's sitting on the lower part of aziraphale's back, right by the curve of his ass.

"so, um, how i do this is-" crowley's not really sure why he's even telling aziraphale this- "i'll start on one side, and do the entire wing, and then move to the other. does that, er, work for you?"

aziraphale half-nods, head resting on his folded arms. "do you care which side you do first?"

"i usually start on the left, but if you'd prefer that i start on the right, then-"

"left is fine. whatever's easiest, i suppose." 

and so it begins.

aziraphale extends his wings, and crowley gets to work. he goes much slower than he usually would, afraid of tugging too tight and accidentally hurting his angel. as he finger-combs the whole wing, he pulls out several stray feathers, dropping them into a pile on the floor. crowley's certainly never found this many loose feathers in all of the times he's groomed his own wings, but he doesn't mention that- no need to make his angel feel unnecessarily self-conscious.

once he's through with the first stage, crowley moves onto the next phase. in his own experience, he's found that primary feathers can be a bit bothersome to groom, simply because of their placement on the wing, but aziraphale's aren't too bad. from there, it's onto the secondaries (which are softer and slightly easier to reach, and therefore, slightly easier to groom) and then the scapulars. crowley thinks this might be his favorite part so far- he loves caressing the places where aziraphale's wings meet the bare skin of his back, and hearing him sigh in response. crowley wishes he could bottle that sound and keep it with him all the time.

having gotten used to the texture and pattern of aziraphale's feathers, crowley has a slightly easier time with aziraphale's other wing. as he makes his way through aziraphale's secondary feathers on the right side, he feels long raised lines on the skin beneath- in human terms, they'd be called scars. he's reluctant to ask about them, especially since aziraphale's already in a vulnerable place right now, but he knows that mentioning them at all probably isn't necessary. he's heard stories about what archangels are capable of doing to those below them who disobey orders, and he'd prefer not to think about that right now. 

(in fact, crowley doesn't say much at all as he grooms his angel's wings, apart from occasionally asking if everything feels okay. he knows that aziraphale would tell him if anything was wrong, but hearing him say _"yes, dear, that feels wonderful,"_ in his sweet, sleepy voice gives crowley some peace of mind.)

all in all, the process of grooming aziraphale's wings takes about three hours. 

"there you go," says crowley, positioning himself beside aziraphale once again and leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips. "all done." 

"thank you," aziraphale whispers with tears in his eyes. he pulls crowley in for another kiss; slower and softer this time, but with no less passion than the one before. crowley responds accordingly, wrapping one arm around aziraphale's waist and pulling him impossibly close, running his fingers through aziraphale's wispy down feathers.

aziraphale and crowley fall asleep curled up together, limbs tangled, fingers intertwined. for the first time in god knows how long, it's aziraphale's pearly white wings that keep them warm beneath the covers.

**Author's Note:**

> i looked at so many diagrams of bird wings for this fic ... and then just made up some of the other stuff about the structure/anatomy of aziraphale's wings. just felt like y'all needed to know that.
> 
> anyways, thanks for reading! also, comments and kudos are appreciated :~)


End file.
